


Sparks

by Gaaladrieel



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Post-Quest of Erebor, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaaladrieel/pseuds/Gaaladrieel
Summary: Bilbo has had strange dreams and visions of himself and Thorin ever since he left Bag End to help the Dwarves reclaim Erebor, and now, a year later, the bad weather brings with it a surprise, although a bit painful one.





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> wow, I hate summaries. Anyway! A little while ago, I went for a walk in the forest, and it was grey, raining, and lots of ravens. And boom, no joke, this entire fic was writing itself in my head and I probably looked like an idiot there was walking, a big smile on my face, admiring the grey sky and all the birds. 
> 
> Hope you like this little thing :) 
> 
> What really helped me writing, was listening to this [Erebor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Een7U18uGvI) and this [rain, thunder, and fireplace](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybt0OMARE4k&t=14706s) ambience videos, at the same time :)

Bilbo jumps in his chair when the thunder rumbles loudly outside his window. He clutches the mug in his hand, and chuckles at himself when he sees the wet patches of tea on his trousers. It rumbles again, and Bilbo can hear the rain starting to fall, the ravens cawing as they fly to their little alcove closer to the top of the mountain.

The weather’s been bad the last three days, Erebor and Dale under a constant grey cloud, the mornings misty and heavy with rain. If the clouds darkening didn’t warn him of the coming thunder, his head certainly did, it’s been heavy the last two days, but there’s something different this time. He’s used to the throbbing pain coming in waves throughout the day, but it’s been present since he woke up, and at times so bad, he’s had to lie down. And thinking back to this morning, it’s almost as if it was worse when Thorin was still in their rooms.

While most of the rooms in the mountain have windows, only the bigger halls have ones to the outside. And his and Thorin’s quarters, with a fairly large round window, the only one with glass. It gives him a good view over Dale, and Bilbo can see even darker clouds roll towards him, the rain only getting heavier.

He throws a log onto the fire in the hearth in front of him, just when lightning strikes in the distance, the room filled with bright light for only a second, but it makes Bilbo squint anyway, a shiver going down his spine.

Picking up his book again, he begins to read of Thráin and Frís’ marriage. It’s a book Ori found not long after they retook the mountain a year ago, of Erebor and its royal family, starting with Thrór and his return to Erebor as a king.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there reading, but the throbbing in his head only worsen when he starts reading the stories of Thorin’s birth, and childhood. Bilbo’s head feels heavy, and like the sound of hammers on steel and anvils he can faintly hear, are in his head, trying to hammer their way through his skull.

 

A raven caws as it flies by their window, just as another lightning strikes, and Bilbo jumps in his chair again, the book in his hands thrown into the air, landing on the floor with a thud.

Bilbo lets out a loud sigh, tired of the constant pain, and the weather scaring him so. “Maybe some water will do,” he mumbles to himself as he walks over to the dining table.

But he should’ve known better.

He’s had strange dreams ever since he left Bag End to join the dwarves on their quest, of him and Thorin, but he’s had them more often lately. They’ve left him feeling confused, and it’s as if they’re snippets from a different time, a different life, feeling too real.  
Bilbo takes another sip of the cold water, and then the lightning strikes again. It’s closer to the mountain and much louder than before, and the mug in Bilbo’s hand drops to the floor.

“Aaah!” Bilbo groans loudly, covering his face with his hands, his fingers tugging at the curls.

Another lightning strike, and more images of him and Thorin flicker in his mind. Thorin is shouting at him, and Bilbo is shouting back. The only time Thorin’s really shouted at him was when he found out about the Arkenstone, but Thorin looks so strange, there’s something about his hair.  
The pain brings him to his knees, but the shouting in his head fades, and Bilbo lets out a quiet, sad laugh.

“Oh, Thorin....”

 

  
Thorin’s steps are slow through the mountain, his head heavy and body aching after a long day, with meeting after meeting. Until he reaches the hallway leading to his and Bilbo’s quarters. The thought of how unwell Bilbo was this morning, makes him almost run down the hall.

He grins as he closes the door behind him, happy to see his husband again. But his smile slowly turns to a line when he takes in the sight of Bilbo, and their living space. The book of his family’s story is on the floor, and Bilbo is standing by their dining table, a hand clutching the edge of it, his feet in a puddle of water and broken pottery.

Thorin jumps when the lightning strike, and Bilbo let out a small giggle, but he doesn’t miss the way Bilbo’s eyes close, and his hold on the table tightens.

Thorin only looks at him, and then Bilbo looks him in the eyes, a small smile on his lips.

“Tt’s a good thing we’re inside a big, sturdy mountain with thick walls, not a penthouse, and with no internet to turn off in a hurry,” Bilbo says, and his own smile, and Thorin’s eyes, widen as he speaks.

“Would be a shame if you lost all your documents and hard work again, although I did save a lot of it last time. Paper’s not so silly now, is it.”

“When were you going to tell me?” Thorin says surprised.

“I haven’t known for long, glimpses now and then during the quest, more after the battle. Then this,” Bilbo says, looking out of the window just as it rumbles again, harsh, bright light lighting up the sky. “I guess it all finally... Clicked into place for me.”

“I’m so sorry, Bilbo,” Thorin whispers, and Bilbo’s own eyes begin to sting as a tear roll down Thorin’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry. I was such an idiot,” Thorin says. “I only cared about myself, our kingdom, money...”

“Thorin, don’t,” Bilbo sniffs.

“I loved you so much, but never the right way, never appreciated you. I threw you away like you were nothing...”

“I... I appreciate your apology, truly. But it’s in the past, Thorin. Or future. I don’t know.”

Thorin lets out a soft, small laugh, his eyes and cheeks wet with tears. He surges forward, the look of a smiling Bilbo now with his arms open too much, and he sobs as he buries his face in Bilbo’s curls, the feeling of his beloved’s fingers in his hair the most wonderful.

Grabbing Bilbo’s hips, he lifts him up, and Bilbo laughs as he’s sat down on the table.

“I don’t want you to cut your feet,” Thorin whispers into his hair. “I’m glad you know. I’ve been too scared to tell you, afraid of how you would react.”

“Oh, Thorin...” Bilbo kisses his cheek, then his lips, Thorin’s grip on him tightening as he does.

With his hands tightly holding onto Thorin’s cloak, Bilbo leans back.

“Look at you,” he says softly. “Finally a king.”

“I prefer this Thorin,” Bilbo says. “Not as stressed, hardworking but not as insane as before, much happier too I think.”

“Definitely much happier,” Thorin says as Bilbo wipes away a tear from his eye.

“Please don’t you dare stress too much, it almost killed you once already.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Did anyone else... Exist, there?”

“Dís did, only one I know of.”

“Oh, that might explain why she was smiling so and close to tears when we first met when she came to Erebor.”

“And,” Thorin smirks, “Why there have been sparks between us ever since I arrived at Bag End.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo frowns, just when a lightning strikes again. “You’re awful,” he sighs, and bursts into loud laughter, Thorin’s own smile widening at the sound. And soon he’s laughing too, and gives one of Bilbo’s pink cheeks a soft kiss.


End file.
